The Warble and Gargle
by Fahrenaut
Summary: He was a strong, ambitious tom. He had the zeal of a real tiger, and while he was made tough and stern by Thistleclaw's claws, she knew and had even witnessed for herself the side of Tigerclaw that made her so giddy inside.


**Disclaimer:** _Warriors_ belongs to _Erin Hunter_. The characters do not belong to me.

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><p><strong>Setting:<strong> Before _Into the Wild_, around the time Tigerclaw was made a warrior. Vaguely during Bluestar's Prophecy, although I'm going to fudge some things. I'm also assuming that Tigerclaw and Goldenflower were made warriors around the same time.

**Characters:** Tigerclaw, Goldenflower, Bluefur, Thrushpelt, Thistleclaw, and others.

**Pairings: **Tiger/Golden as the main, and then Thrush/Blue as a minor.

**Plot:** It was rude and arrogant the way he asserted himself, butting into the warriors' den and taking his place beside the equally as tough and difficult Thistleclaw, but Goldenflower couldn't help but notice his appeal. Tigerclaw was a strong cat, beautiful as he was intimidating. She wondered if, at all possible, could the frighteningly bold and ambitious Tigerclaw be hers, for then and forever?

**Rating:** _T_ for possible gore and implied things. We'll have to see where it goes.

**Editor: **Unedited.

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><p><strong>The Warble and Gargle<strong>

Sunlight poured into the camp, bathing the grass and burdgeoning flowers a milky yellow. It was a warm day, although a plucky breeze as cool as gurgling streams unsettled the peace within ThunderClan camp.

Goldenflower, her ginger fur ruffled from sleep, lifted her head to peer with squinted eyes out at the den's exit. Light beamed in through the opening; the ground was covered with shimmering dapples, a particular one right on the warrior's shoulders. It made her hot. It was so bad that she had to get up, although she needed to rise and shine anyway.

Twitching her ear at a bothersome fly, she watched the black bug leave her to buzz over the heads of her denmates. She watched it travel. Looping, zig-zagging, landing, and then alighting to begin the cycle once more, the fly wound up touching mostly every cat still sleeping.

Goldenflower was terribly tired. While she had to purr a bit when she saw a sleeping warrior grimace in his sleep when the insect touched his nose, she couldn't get herself to really start going. She was just standing there, watching a bug. Frowning, she continued to eye the fly as it landed on an empty nest.

Tigerclaw's nest.

Adjacent to it, Thistleclaw's nest was soaking in sun, the thing probably as hot as a stone's face in the middle of greenleaf.

Goldenflower's frown deepened, her tail dipping to curl slightly behind her hind legs. She supposed that the heat had kicked the two warriors out, or else they just liked being up with the early birds. Although, admittedly, it wasn't that early. Despite her knowing she should hoist herself up and out, the warrior got a little lost in thought, her mind empty yet lingering on what she was seeing.

"Hey, you lazy pieces of crowfood! Wanna actually get up and get what needs to be done _done_?"

Thistleclaw's loud mew made Goldenflower jump. Heart thumping in her chest, she quickly left with wide eyes and a guilty conscience.

The gray and white tom was giving her a nasty look, one that made her a little defensive, but her better side told her to just let it go. After all, she shouldn't have wasted time like that. It was only seconds after she left that the brash warrior decided to push his way in, breezing past her to stomp around in the warriors' den.

Leaving the noise behind, she thoughtlessly ran over to Bluefur, the first cat she saw that she knew wouldn't get on her case. And the first cat she knew that wasn't all that fond of Thistleclaw.

The disapproval she felt was obvious, her gaze not so friendly as she watched the warriors' den get vacated by disgruntled and embarrassed cats. "He needs to stop that," she meowed, her voice low.

Goldenflower blinked. "He's pushy, but he _is_ right."

"You're too nice, Goldenflower," Bluefur meowed, turning her line of sight to the golden she-cat, her expression a mix of surprise and thoughtfulness. "Were you paying attention when he looked at you? He's so..."

Goldenflower gave her a sheepish look. She was very passive-aggressive, and she didn't want to incite trouble; she knew that Bluefur didn't quite understand it, but Goldenflower would much rather deal with Thistleclaw's mean attitude than spit and fight with him.

"Anyway," Bluefur sighed, "you look awfully tired. Is something bothering you? You don't normally get up this late. I've been on an entire border patrol, and you haven't done anything."

Goldenflower flinched a little. She knew that Bluefur meant nothing bad by it, her mew nothing but filled with concern and innocent curiosity. Her words still stung, though, for she knew they were very insightful observations on her character as of late. Goldenflower knew she was slothing around, and she hated it.

"Nothing... nothing is the matter. I'm sorry," she apologized, her mew soft.

Bluefur's eyes narrowed, and Goldenflower ducked her head.

_Does she know? _Goldenflower thought, the bubbling fear and self-conscious anxiety making her want to dash off into the forest and hunt squirrels. _Something _that would make up for her spending precious daylight by watching blasted flies tickle cats' noses.

"Hey, Bluefur!"

Thrushpelt was Goldenflower's saving grace, the round-eyed warrior's greeting cutting off Bluefur before she could form the start of a sentence.

"Hey, Goldenflower," the tom acknowledged her too, dipping his muzzle toward the both of them. His pelt was nice and groomed, and he smelled strongly of the forest and its plethora of odors. It was like a track history, the old yet looming scents of scraped bark, grass in between toe pads, and a tongue rasping over chest fur.

Goldenflower was a little impressed. Thrushpelt obviously wanted to court Bluefur today. The ginger she-cat would have twitched her whiskers in amusement, but Bluefur's curt response stopped her dead cold.

"Good morning." She curled her blue-gray tail over her oval-shaped paws. She eyed him evenly. "What is it?"

The words were kind enough, but the way she said them made even Thrushpelt falter. Goldenflower glanced over at her friend, and she chose to feel rather dismayed and off-put by the she-cat's sudden switch in disposition. She didn't like seeing anyone like this, and she hated how she always had to notice the split flashes of hurt and frustration in Thrushpelt's gaze.

It made her feel terrible herself.

"I was, er, thinking that we could, uh, go hunting together, you know?" he stumbled over his own words, the flow uneven and betraying his nerves.

"I don't think I ca—"

"Goldenflower, you should come too!" Thrushpelt's mew sounded fringed with desperation.

Goldenflower jumped, her eyes wide. "Me?" she asked warily, her gaze flickering from Bluefur's stoic face to Thrushpelt's poor self. She wasn't altogether comfortable with the idea of accompanying them, the two generating a tension wherever they went. Including then, the atmosphere so thick that Goldenflower felt suffocated and on edge.

"Yes, you!" Thrushpelt laughed. It sounded so devoid of happiness, though, that Goldenflower couldn't help but swallow hard.

Glancing over at Bluefur, she felt the urge to shrink back. Her blue eyes looked poisonous. They softened after a few moments of analyzing Goldenflower, it seemed. But when they switched back to look at the brown tabby tom, they hardened once again.

"Fine," she meowed, "Goldenflower? Why don't you come?"

Pressured, she reluctantly and hesitantly nodded.

Thrushpelt looked genuinely glad, lifting his chin and turning right around to lead the way to the camp's exit. Goldenflower padded slowly after, Bluefur waiting until she was good enough ahead that she could tag in right behind. She felt awkward being intentionally positioned as a barricade between the two warriors by Bluefur, but she sucked it up and carried on.

The forest greeted them as they left the gorse-lined camp, trees that reached the sky giving them shade from the pressing sun. Birds warbled and sang from the branches above, although the speckled creatures would swoop down to lower perches right above their whiskers.

Goldenflower admired the glorious weather, enjoying the warmth and overall fuzzy feeling such a day always brought. It was a lovely distraction; Bluefur and Thrushpelt were blurred out, and it was quiet between all three of them. This made her thoughts wander once more, and she was brought back to her lull in the warriors' den, the fly buzzing around and around to eventually settle for bit a second on his nest.

"Should we try the Sunning Rocks?" Thrushpelt meowed, his head turning from up ahead to look at his two female companions.

Goldenflower pulled herself out of her reminiscing, embarrassed and slightly muddled. She managed to catch Bluefur giving her an odd look before she steadily replied.

"No. It's too hot."

"Huh? It's not too bad, and I bet prey'd be near the water."

"_It's too hot_," Bluefur reiterated, voice so stern and adamant that Goldenflower winced yet again.

Thrushpelt, confused and hurt, let up, lowering his tail and averting his gaze. "Then how about the Great Sycamore?" His proposal was better received by Bluefur this time, and they nodded in confirmation.

Goldenflower quietly went along with it, having absolutely no preference or will to argue. And as they padded swiftly through the undergrowth, she thought of what they would find at the tall and ancient tree, the knobby branches and broad leaves etched into her memory. She was sure that she could find a plump squirrel there, something that could make her feel better about the day. If not a squirrel, then maybe a mouse picking around at leaf litter on the ground.

The small patrol reached the tree in no time, its girth enormous and its bark like the ground turned vertical. Bluefur immediately set to hunting. Goldenflower saw her ears pricked and her haunches low, so she supposed the adept hunter had already spotted something. Thrushpelt was sniffing their surroundings. Goldenflower did the same, becoming keen towards the movements of the forest.

Bluefur returned with a downed sparrow. Thrushpelt stalked off into the grass. Goldenflower finally found her target.

A squirrel, just as she'd hoped, was hopping not too far away, pausing every now and then to survey the land. Despite its carefulness, it was completely unaware of the predator lurking downwind of it. Licking her lips, Goldenflower began to lower herself into the hunter's crouch. With a swish of her tail, the warrior had lunged and landed squarely on the squirrel. She killed it with a quick blow to the head.

Lifting the catch with her teeth and carrying it over to her friends, she glowed with the praise that they gave her. She liked their words, and they were just what she needed. Not that she wanted to feel important or special, but she really wanted that boost to her self-esteem. She always did.

"I think we've done pretty good for ourselves," Bluefur meowed, finally a bit more loose after seeing the collected spoils of their hunting at the Great Sycamore. She had caught a sparrow, and Thrushpelt had snagged two mice. That piled with Goldenflower's squirrel definitely made a gracious mound of food for the Clan.

"I agree. We should start taking it back," Thrushpelt purred.

Goldenflower had no qualm with that. She discreetly made sure to get her squirrel, grabbing the prey by the neck. She wanted to be the one to hold it while padding into camp, hopefully attracting the attention of her brother, Lionheart, and maybe a few others. They'd be pleased to see her do so well.

_Maybe even Thistleclaw would see. It'd definitely make him forget about earlier_, she thought. Raising her ginger head to the sky, she noted the sun at its zenith, and she quickly felt deflated and disappointed.

A certain warrior probably wouldn't be there to see.

The arrival of late evening brought with it thunderheads, and the transition into twilight made the clouds drop their burdens.

With a full belly and freshly groomed fur, Goldenflower saught comfort and shelter in the womb of the warriors' den. Most of the warriors shared the same idea, their bodies pressed together as they spent the rest of the waking day sharing stories and finishing sharing tongues.

Lionheart's gold form was spread out beside her. She lightly chastised him for pushing his wet pelt against hers, especially since she'd been trying so hard to stay dry, but she couldn't let her unfortunate brother freeze after getting caught in the rain.

Goldenflower's gaze became glued to the outside. The camp was empty, totally lacking in bustling activity, the shower having flushed them all out. Aside from the talking and prattle of her denmates, she could hear the incessant hissing of the rain. And beyond that, she could make out the softened murmurs of apprentices in the den next to theirs.

A water droplet rolled off of a leaf. The bead landed with a small splash on Goldenflower's head. She wrinkled her nose and lifted her gaze to stare at the assaulting tendril, the soaked plant bobbing with the weight of the rain drops. Lowering her eyes to become level with everyone else, she looked toward the center of the den.

Thistleclaw's unmistakable form was leisurely sprawled out beside Snowfur. The white-furred she-cat seemed extremely content to be so close to the patched warrior, but she appeared to also be very oblivious to her sister's glares. Bluefur looked uncomfortable and mean, her blue eyes never leaving the couple. Thrushpelt was not too far off, but their pelts weren't even close to touching.

There was a body missing, though. This made Goldenflower very distraught, but it wasn't news to her to see the den empty and cold beside Thrushpelt's.

Goldenflower had been waiting for his return most of the entire day. She could practically smell the tom's scent on the rain, and whenever she blinked or got lost in a gleaming puddle, she could picture his brown tabby fur and amber eyes. Tigerclaw had been plaguing her mind all day, ever since she'd first woken to the moment she was lost in now, night facing her without her handsome crush close by.

At the saddening and yet embarrassing thought, she lowered her head to rest shyly on her paws.

She couldn't stop herself from worrying.

He was a strong, ambitious tom. He had the zeal of a real tiger, and while he was made tough and stern by Thistleclaw's claws, she knew and had even witnessed for herself the side of Tigerclaw that made her so giddy inside. He was a charismatic individual. He was a real warrior. He was simply amazing.

Goldenflower shivered. But it didn't make him immune to the troubles of the world. If he stayed out much longer, he could get sick. He could be hurt out there, too.

She admired him so much, and she had to admit that what she thought was simple respect had morphed and grown into something that could easily spiral out of control. She didn't want to take that step forward into that hopeless realm of love; Tigerclaw probably never noticed her, so she couldn't afford to put time into something that most likely wouldn't happen.

Turning her head to look at Bluefur and Thrushpelt on the opposite side of the den, she held back the urge to slam her head into the wall. If they weren't an example of the fallacies of love, then she didn't know what was.

Regardless, Goldenflower was compelled to return her gaze to the saturated world beyond the brambles. Tigerclaw wasn't back yet. So, in consequence, she couldn't dare sleep. And even if she were to attempt to, it would be impossible. She needed to know he was safe.

Imagining the broad-shouldered tom slowly making his way home, Goldenflower allowed the rain to pound out a bittersweet rhythm in her head.

She woke up ashamed. She'd fallen asleep while waiting for Tigerclaw, and it was a fact that struck her hard as soon as her eyes opened.

But she was awake much earlier than she was yesterday, even Lionheart and Bluefur still sound asleep in their nests.

A blue-green haze was filtering into the den. Everything was dreadfully still outside, Goldenflower could tell. The rain had stopped, and the land was so soaked with water that she thought it likely that the entire Clan would be covered in mud by the day's end.

Goldenflower heard the trill of a lark. Other than that, she knew only that it would be a short while yet before morning arrived, but it was undoubtably on its way.

Looking around the den for any trace of Tigerclaw, she couldn't pick out his tabby pelt from the sleeping bodies. His scent was old and stale, practically not even there, and his nest was still empty.

The revelation formed a ball in Goldenflower's throat. She tried to swallow it down, but it refused to go away. She knew it would stay until she saw him.

More awake than she'd ever hope to be, the ginger she-cat carefully lifted herself up out of her nest, avoiding the chance of bumping Lionheart into wakefulness. Determined and yet terribly scared, Goldenflower padded quietly out of the den and into the foggy morning. The camp was completely shrouded. The Highrock was merely a gray mass in the center of the clearing, almost indiscernible from the forest.

The scents of the two guards keeping vigilant watch outside camp walls were enhanced by the rain. Goldenflower flinched when her paws squished in the mud. They made such an awful noise; it was enough to make her pause, choosing to just stay still and search for Tigerclaw's silouette.

But, unsurprisingly, the black shape never emerged. She never heard the call of the guards welcoming him in, nor did she ever see his amber eyes glinting amongst the water vapor. Frowning, she was tempted to go out herself. While she didn't want the confrontation, she began to muse as to how to coerce the guards into letting her through. Letting her through to go find Tigerclaw.

Taking a few heavy steps forward, she steeled her nerves and prepared to go, but she was stopped short.

Terse words carried over on the still air to Goldenflower's ears. She picked out the voice of Tigerclaw, his mew embarrassingly rich and appealing. Frightened like a skittish deer, Goldenflower literally chose flight over fight and zipped back to the warriors' den.

Goldenflower ungracefully situated herself down next to Lionheart again, receiving an angry yet groggy mumble of disapproval from the golden tom. She tucked her head in her paws, her toes overlapping to hide her nose and muzzle.

Her heart almost exploded from the excitement when she heard Tigerclaw's pelt brush against the brambles of the den. Feigning sleep, she waited until she could no longer hear his pawsteps softly treading on the mossy floor.

Tentatively lifting her head, she saw Tigerclaw's handsome form settling down next to Thistleclaw, Goldenflower noticing the feathers and strands in his nest lightly brushing against his fur. The warrior's back was facing her, and she saw his breathing slow into a predictable rise and fall. It was a long moment or two before she let herself relax.

That was all way too humiliating. And emotional. She felt about ready to collapse.

But why had Tigerclaw been out all night? His pelt looked utterly drenched. Goldenflower was extremely worried, and she wanted nothing more than to be able to make her way over and nuzzle her nose into his neck. Then she would help him dry off, and then she would be all ears to the story he'd be sure to tell her in the morning. If he'd wish to tell her.

Goldenflower shook the fantasy away, knowing it wouldn't get her anywhere.

With a final pang in her chest, she made herself rest some more, her eyes drooping to a close to the semi-erratic beat of her own poor heart.

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><p><strong>AN: **A new fanfic series to get me back into writing! Hopefully this didn't suck. But anyway, I'll be updating this soon; Goldenflower is surprisingly very fun to write.

Will Goldenflower ever find out what the heck Tigerclaw was doing? Will her supposedly unrequited affections ever be made into something mutual? And will Goldenflower and Tigerclaw ever share a word of dialogue together? STAY TUNED TO FIND OUT. :3


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